


Force Ghost One-Shots

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Afterlife, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Everyone Needs A Hug, Force Ghost Anakin Skywalker, Force Ghost Obi-Wan Kenobi, Force Ghost Shmi Skywalker, Force Ghost(s), Heavy Angst, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Shmi Skywalker Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:53:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23182810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A book of one shots about force ghosts! I do take requests but I won't do ship ones very often. I still might take some of them on, but I'll have to look way further into them than platonic requests and stuff. I also won't do smut/lemons. If wanted, I will try and translate some things into other languages if asked to, but I'll use Google Translate so it probably won't be that accurate.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader & Shmi Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Shmi Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Shmi Skywalker
Kudos: 5





	Force Ghost One-Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin reunites with his mother in death.

Anakin awoke with a start and pushed himself up. His fleshy hand met the ground and feeling sparked throughout it. The other was still metal, clad in leather, but his breath still caught in his throat at the revelation that he could feel again, a feeling that didn't pain him at least. Caught in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear a small voice behind him.

"Anakin?" He jolted his head upwards. Anakin. Not Vader, but Anakin. It was him. He was him. He was free. "Anakin? Is that... Is that you?" He turned around, facing someone he never thought he'd see again. Eyes widening, he ran to her.

"Mom... Mom, it's me," he said as Shmi's arms wrapped around him in a motherly embrace. "My son. Oh, Anakin, how I've missed you," she said, pulling back and gripping his hands as if the floor would fall in. All at once, with a puff of air, not only did Anakin notice the return of three limbs long forgotten but in that breath, he realized he could breathe. There was no mask, no armor, no pain in his chest, no weak, fleeting gasps from his poor, burnt lungs. Just fresh air and a huff of its glory. 

His grip loosened with this revelation as he muttered it aloud and Shmi's expression of happiness faded to one of worry. "Anakin?" she began, eyes moving downwards. "What's under the glove?" 

Anakin's hand jolted back as he tried to explain. If his mother had this reaction over one limb, how would she react when he told her about the rest? 

He decided that actions would speak louder and began to remove his glove. By the sound of Shmi's gasp, he knew she had seen the metallic hand, cold and foreboding, with feeling that only felt off and disconnected. Like he wasn't really feeling it, only hearing it be described. "Anakin, what hap-"

"Vader?" He heard behind him as a voice interrupted his mother's. He cringed at the mention of that name. He truly thought he was finally free again. But when was he ever? "I take it your son did it?" Not daring to meet the familiar voice in the eye for fear of who was there and hoping he was wrong, Anakin gave a quick denial to that question. The man behind him seemed to have been confused, as he asked how. Looking to the ground, Anakin seemed to take hours to get the words off his tongue. "Force lightning, suit failure, a shit ton of other things," He muttered, letting out a breathy, pained laugh.

He finally turned as Shmi watched, concern lacing her expression more so than before. "Look, Obi-Wan, I'm sorry," he said, finally meeting his former master's eyes. "I fucked up, alright?" Obi-Wan chuckled. "I'd hardly call the death of billions simply 'fucking up', as you put it, Vader, that's organized murder." 

Anakin winced. Shmi pulled him back around to look at her. "Anakin, what have you done?" she asked, demanding an answer as her voice rose to a disciplinary measure. Obi-Wan gaped at her. "You didn't tell her?" he asked, an accusatory tone in his voice. Anakin faced his body towards his mother and looked over his shoulder. "She didn't know?" he asked incredulously. Obi-Wan sighed. "Of course she didn't know. It's not like we can see what's going on down there unless we manifest, and your mother is hardly force-sensitive," he exclaimed. 

As he tried to redirect the topic, Anakin brought up the only good thing on his mind. The best thing. Closing his eyes, Anakin muttered, through gritted teeth, a soft plea to see his kids and hoped they would allow him. He needed to see them. To set things right. But alas, we can't always have what we want. "Tell her," Obi-Wan commanded.

Anakin took a deep breath, and through the chaos that was death, found himself enjoying the fresh air. It wasn't cold. It wasn't bone-chilling. It wasn't blood-curdling. It wasn't crisp. It wasn't orderly. It didn't smell of some kind of hospital. Instead, it was warm. Welcoming. Homey. A type of air he hadn't inhaled in a long time. Strangely, he found himself enjoying it, before realizing what was currently at hand and turning back to his mother.

Anakin took another breath of air as he felt the cool breeze flow down his throat and into his full lungs as they danced in his chest. This was hardly the time for pleasures, though. "Mom, I..." he began, cutting himself off, unsure if he was quite ready. How does one tell their mother that they maimed their son, tortured their daughter and her lover, tormented the people of the galaxy, and blew up planets as easily as snapping their fingers? He couldn't do it, but he had to. She needed to know. They all deserved to know. 

And so, he began to speak.  
\---  
His mother stared at him, ears ringing in a deafening silence. This wasn't her Anakin. This wasn't her boy. This wasn't the boy who would craft droids, who would promise that he'd get them free someday as she would stroke his hair while he sat on her lap, who would laugh at any joke just to make someone happy, who would bury any small insects he stepped on. This man was cruel and impatient and arrogant and... Through all of this, her love didn't fade. As a mother, she felt the same urge to protect him.

But this wasn't her son. It couldn't be. There was no way she could raise such a monster who would beg for forgiveness after being responsible for so many deaths even he had lost count.

Staring at her son with wide eyes, tear tracks streaking down both of their faces, Shmi began to sob into her sleeve. Anakin watched, wanting to comfort her, yet doubting she'd even want him to. Shmi slowly took a step away from him as she silently backed away, but her expression said it all. She wanted to scream in horror, to tell him, her own son, to stay away, to leave, to go, but she couldn't find the strength to, nor the confidence. As Shmi walked away, Anakin was faced with the revelation that no matter how free and new he may be, he was still a monster. And he would still be feared for years to come.


End file.
